the tranquillity of none. You’ll not tell, will you? It will be very
heartless if you do.”

“I’ll make up my mind on that point by tomorrow, Miss
Catherine,” I replied. “It requires some study; and so I’ll leave you
to your rest, and go think it over.”

I thought it over aloud, in my master’s presence; walking
straight from her room to his, and relating the whole story: with
the exception of her conversations with her cousin, and any
mention of Hareton.

Mr. Linton was alarmed and distressed more than he would
acknowledge to me. In the morning, Catherine learnt my betrayal
of her confidence, and she learnt also that her secret visits were to
end.

In vain she wept and writhed against the interdict, and
implored her father to have pity on Linton: all she got to comfort
her was a promise that he would write, and give him leave to come
to the Grange when he pleased; but explaining that he must no
longer expect to see Catherine at Wuthering Heights. Perhaps,
had he been aware of his nephew’s disposition and state of health,
he would have seen fit to withhold even that slight consolation.